Go Out Fighting 3: Never
by chezchuckles
Summary: After the events of Go Out Fighting 2: Serendipity, Castle and Beckett attempt to resolve her mother's case while recovering from their wounds.
1. Chapter 1

**Go Out Fighting 3: Never **

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><p><strong>AN:**It is completely necessary to have read **Go Out Fighting 2: Serendipity** to understand this story. It is not, however, necessary to read **Go Out Fighting**.

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><p>And all of the beautiful things<br>That make you weep,  
>but don't have to make you weak-<p>

'Cause I have never never never  
>never never never never<br>loved somebody  
>The way that I<br>love you.

-Never, Rilo Kiley

* * *

><p>The braces and wires came off Monday after five weeks of having his jaw wired shut. He'd lost thirty pounds, he hadn't talked to his daughter face to face in all that time, and he still had a painful numbness in his left side. Sometimes, he'd wake from a sound sleep to the feeling of a pencil being shoved inside his ear, painful and sharp, but the doctors said it was his nerve healing; it would go away with time.<p>

(A year, they said. It would take about a year. He wasn't sure he could manage that.)

His teeth ached.

But Kate was here.

"Want french fries, Castle?" She offered them up, dancing them in front of his face with a little smirk.

He grunted at her, narrowing his eyes. He could talk, but it hurt. He could say something, shoot his mouth off, but he liked making her work for it.

"Come on. I know you do," she teased, curling forward to put her elbows on the table. He could see the tightness of pain in her face. They both knew the signs now, could tell when the other one had pushed too far.

"Hurts," he said simply, barely pulling back his lips to speak. He still couldn't open his jaw all the way, only just a little, and the exercises his physical therapist gave him made his whole face throb, made the muscles down into his neck tighten, even to his collarbone.

"You need to eat," she sighed, dropping the fries. She hunched in the seat and pressed the heel of her hand to her eyebrow. "Castle."

"Will." He reached over and picked up the plate of fries. The best thing about recovering in a drug and alcohol treatment center was the amenities. Nice jacuzzis ensuite, sinfully large beds, a semi-private pool, gardens, five-star meals. "Eatin'. Kate."

She lifted her head slowly and watched him push fries past his teeth. Her face was drenched in worry. "Milkshake?"

"You?"

She gave a flickering smile. "Yes. I will." She took a slow, shallow breath and moved to stand.

He watched her like a hawk, grateful for her. As they each recovered from their bullet wounds, they complimented each other. She kept trying to make him eat, put some weight back on, and in order to facilitate that, she had to get up and move, use those once-damaged muscles.

It worked. Kind of.

Her physical therapist had left her trembling and worn out after this morning; when she walked towards the dessert bar in the cafeteria, her hands were in fists at her sides. But she came back with two chocolate mocha shakes, her eyes bright. The cafeteria put protein powder, Vitamin D, Vitamin C, and calcium in them; he never tasted the additions, just the chocolate.

"Here," she murmured, putting his down in front of him. He had left off eating the fries until she got back. No point going through that much pain unless she was here to see it, and approve, and perhaps reward him for it.

He hummed at the smell of chocolate and mocha and frozen goodness, then used a spoon to scoop out a little bit, slid it between his lips. He hissed at the contact with his teeth, the cold shooting straight to his raw nerve, his fragile bone, but he didn't care. It tasted good, and he was always starving - it usually took just too much energy to eat. So far tonight, he'd only managed mashed potatoes and a couple cubes of jello.

Kate sat back down slowly in her chair and brushed her hand over her napkin, then curled her fingers into a fist. He watched her gather herself, pulling strength and calm from some inviolate center within, her eyes closed. When she seemed to have put a lid on the pain, she brought the milkshake to her lips. She drank it watching him, their silence more alive and riddled with meaning than a thousand conversations.

She'd always been a taciturn kind of woman, reserved; she played it close to the vest. But she'd adopted his one-syllable answers lately, had taken on his own speech patterns. As if she would give out only as much as he would. He had a feeling it was only partly due to him; he thought maybe she needed the silence to buoy her, since she was allowed very little solitude here. Since _he_ allowed her very little.

Sometimes, all he wanted was to hear her talk, her voice across whatever distance was between them, the tone and tenor and pitch of her like a soothing heat to his broken bones.

"Kate," he grit out, pressed his lips together as he looked at her.

She watched him, waiting. She was going to make him speak, wasn't she? He could say all he wanted to say in a look, but she wasn't going to acknowledge it.

"Game. Tonight?" He felt proud to force that much through, found that the words didn't hurt as much as he expected. "Beat you."

She let a smile grace her eyes, curl her mouth. "Sure you will, Castle. I'm ready to take you down."

"Any. Day."

She smiled wider, her lips around the straw, her eyes looking up at him through her lashes. He wanted to kiss her, and he would, soon as it didn't hurt to move his jaw.

She had kissed him, though, still kissed him, despite his frustratingly limited participation. He wanted her to kiss him now. He would never ask it of her.

"Want me to call Alexis tonight?"

He nodded, the first real smile coming to his mouth in a while. "Please."

"You chat with her today yet?"

He nodded. Over his phone, the laptop - they communicated all the time in words. Just not that often spoken.

"Hey, Castle?"

He looked up from his shake and saw she was smiling, a gentle thing that had some steel behind it.

"If you don't start talking in complete sentences, I'm not going to talk back." She lifted an eyebrow at him in challenge.

He sighed and rubbed the tips of his fingers over the left side of his face. His skin was sensitive up to a point and then all feeling disappeared. Just a strange plasticity. But she was right; he needed to start using the muscles if his jaw was going to heal. "Okay."

She kept her mouth shut.

He dropped his hand and geared himself up for it.

"Will. You play. A game with me?"

She grinned and leaned forward, brushed her fingers across his knee under the small table. "It's a date."

* * *

><p>She won the first game, but not the second.<p>

When they first started playing six weeks ago, on a board perched on his bed between them, he'd been terrible. He had claimed she cheated, but she was only laying words on top of words, layering them for extra points, claiming the double word scores, the triple letters.

After a week of playing, he'd figured out how to take advantage of those same squares. And a week after that, he'd learned not to accidentally set her up to claim those squares. He'd learned the words that got rid of the hardest letters to place: _qat, xi, zax_.

Since they were off the grid, they couldn't play on their phones, not that they ever had before. But she could imagine all-day games with him, watching him sit in his chair at her desk, his brow furrowed like it was now, the stupid grin of triumph when he played a word worth more than 30 points. At least then they wouldn't fight over which words were actually words, despite the Scrabble dictionary that Ryan had brought them a few weeks back.

Only a few plays into the third game, Castle was getting antsy; his foot struck the board and it rattled, the tiles jittered to the side. She took pity on him and slid the burner cell phone out of the drawer at his bedside, checked the time.

His face relaxed and he leaned back against the headboard. He smiled at her. It was time, or close enough.

As usual, she shifted the board to the foot of the bed and crawled up next to him, their shoulders touching. It was easier on her abs when she curled her knees up, and when she did, his arm draped over her legs, pulled her closer.

She called the phone that Esposito had given to Alexis and Martha, the only phone they called. Alexis turned it on at exactly seven o'clock, and she answered on the first ring.

"Daddy?"

Kate already had it on speakerphone and Castle grinned a little wider, no matter how much it probably hurt him to do it.

"Hey, pumpkin."

"Kate there too?"

"I'm here."

"Good. How are you, Dad? How's your jaw?"

He hummed something that was probably supposed to be an answer but Kate shot him a look. "Alexis, I told your Dad that he has to speak in complete sentences."

Alexis laughed over the line; it sounded good to hear. She hadn't spent much time laughing, Kate didn't think, at least not when they were on the phone together.

Castle sighed. "It's getting there."

"Good. That's good. I can even understand you," Alexis said in a rush.

Kate shared a look with the girl's father, nodded to him. "He's doing good. How's California?"

"Oh my gosh, Kate, my mother is driving me crazy."

They both laughed, and Kate leaned her head against Castle's shoulder with a sigh. "Why's that, Alexis?"

"With the bodyguards hanging around, every time she goes on an audition, she has this air of mystery about her, and they snap her right up. She's landing every role. Her ego is getting out of hand."

"Worse than your father's?"

That earned a laugh from Alexis, a second laugh, and a grunt from Castle.

Kate grinned - she'd made Alexis laugh twice tonight - and felt Castle rumbling beside her. "But you're having a good time?" she asked, brushing a finger over the top of his thigh. His arm around her legs squeezed, his hand wrapped around her ankle.

"Yeah, I miss you guys. Dad, when do you get out of there?"

"I don't know." He shifted beside her, discomfort because of his jaw or the question, Kate didn't know. "Still healing."

"Are we going to be able to come home when the summer's over?"

Castle's anxiety communicated itself to her; whatever low-frequency vibration his emotions emitted, it transmitted on a channel she picked up.

"Alexis, we don't know yet. The boys are working on cleaning it all up. As soon as we can be sure that the Judge doesn't have any other contacts-"

"I know," Alexis sighed over the phone. "I know. I just miss you."

Kate's chest squeezed tight, but surely the girl didn't mean her. She was talking to her father.

"Dad?"

"Here."

There was a long moment where Kate wondered if Alexis was trying not to cry, and all she could do was spread her fingers out over his thigh and squeeze, hoping to comfort him, because she could see that his eyes were filling as well.

"I love you, Daddy."

"Love you too."

* * *

><p>She stayed in the bed with him after his daughter's call. He didn't want her to leave. They had the last bungalow on the west side of the property, the most secluded, and her bedroom was only next door; no one would know if she didn't go back to her own room.<p>

She had yet to fall asleep and stay, but she did often fall asleep. But when Castle woke again in the morning, aching and bruised and always - somehow - having slept on his jaw, Kate was gone. It was the worst part of having her - this _not_ having her.

Complete sentences though. She was good at rewarding him for the little victories: the press of her lips to his cheek, her fingers at his throat, the warmth of her against him. When he stopped leaning on the crutch of those index cards, the phrases and words spelled out and easier to use than his own voice, she had wrapped her arms around him and hung on. For a long time.

Sometimes he wondered if this reward system was doing more for her than it did for him.

She'd thrown out his index cards so he couldn't fall back on them, but she'd saved two, the twin _I love you_s, and he had seen one propped up against the lamp on her bedside table. As if she wanted to see it every morning when she woke.

He wanted to see _her_ every morning.

"Kate," he said, felt the gravel in his throat mangle her name. But she lifted her head from his shoulder, sat up.

He reached out and feathered his fingers along her abdomen. Her skin rippled at the contact, but she didn't look to be in any more pain than usual. He knew the home health nurse he'd hired came in to wash her hair every morning; she couldn't reach above her head. And even though they walked as much as she could force herself, her body was still weak, her body kept breaking down.

All he had to do was look at her, and she knew. Maybe she wanted it too.

"Lie down then, Castle."

His chest eased, his smile opened up for her, teeth aching, jaw like cracking ice. She curled up at the head of the bed so that he could yank the covers down, get his legs under the sheets, and then she slid down next to him.

He didn't know how long she'd stay, but she was here now.

* * *

><p>The quiet night was their time to talk. Or hers, really. She talked to the darkness and felt him under her cheek, the rumble and hum of his voice dwelling in his chest, his sounds approximating conversation. It was enough to know he heard.<p>

She talked, more than she ever had to anyone, and he touched; his hands were his words.

"Everyone's gone, Castle," she murmured, the hitch in her breathing making the sentence stick. He stroked his palm up and down her back as if in denial, pressed her closer.

She slid her arm around his ribs. "Everyone from my mother's case. And they tried to kill me too. Nearly got you."

His fingers wrapped around her shoulder and squeezed.

"I know," she whispered. "I'm here. You're here. But it was a near thing. You saved my life."

His fingers trailed up to her neck, slid into her hair as his chest vibrated on a hum.

And then she said the thing which haunted her, kept her awake at night. "What if Markway gets off?"

He grunted under her, his breath rattling out of his throat.

"I don't want to sacrifice the Captain's reputation, his legacy for nothing, Castle. I don't want to put it all out there, all the evidence he collected, shame his family, drag his name in the mud, only for Markway to beat the charges."

His hand at her neck tensed, squeezed, his thumb brushing her jaw. She kissed the pad of his thumb when it passed near, closed her eyes, but the memory was like a nightmare, pressed close and too vivid. The hangar, the cemetery, the hospital.

He must feel it, or else he knew her now in a way that was entirely sensation and whatever echo of grief that rippled from her and into him. He must, because he brought his other arm up around her and pressed his cheek to the top of her head, cradling her.

"I'm okay," she whispered back. "I'm okay."

The strangled noise in his throat meant that he knew she was not.

"I'll be okay. I will. I promise."

He sighed, and his mouth on her skin was a comfort she couldn't help falling into.


	2. Chapter 2

**Go Out Fighting 3: Never**

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><p>The next morning, Esposito found them on the terrace at the back of the bungalow; he had a bag of bear claws and two coffees from the place down the street from the precinct. Castle longed for a bear claw, but the idea of tearing through thick pastry had him wilting on sight.<p>

Kate gave him one anyway, with a look in her eyes that said she meant for him to eat it, come hell or high water.

He sighed and stared forlornly at the bear claw.

"Dude, you look like a refugee. Eat," Esposito said, dragging a deck chair over to their table.

"The one time in your life you can eat like a teenaged boy, Castle, and it's like I'm torturing you," Kate said, rolling her eyes at him. She sipped her coffee and sat back gingerly. She watched him for a moment longer, and he realized he was worrying her.

"Espo," he got out, narrowing his eyes when Esposito did a double take.

"Whoa, bro can talk! It's alive!"

He growled and set to picking apart the bear claw, tearing it into small pieces. With his jaw wired shut, Ryan and Esposito had taken to calling him Frankenstein. At least until he'd pleaded so hard for Kate to straighten them out (with his eyes and the tight grip on her hand of course), and she had. She'd told them that Frankenstein was the mad scientist; the monster didn't have a name.

Didn't make the boys stop, though.

He glared at Espo in remembered indignity. "Shut up. Tell us what you got."

"Man, you sound like Beast from the X-Men. Are you gonna-"

"Javi," Kate said, cutting into the banter with a lift of her eyebrow.

Her quiet defense of him maybe said too much, if she was looking to keep this between them (or looking to deny it later, which he was mentally preparing himself for because it was always one step forward, two steps back with her).

Castle saw the intrigue flare across Esposito's face, the flick of his eyes between them, curiosity and speculation.

But instead of saying anything, he leaned forward in his chair and pulled a thick file out from under the bag of pastries. The rubberband came off with a snap and Esposito hissed, shook out his fingers. "All right. We have a few things."

Kate sat forward as well, her hands around the coffee cup. Castle saw her eyes dart to him with a little frown so he pushed a piece of pastry into his mouth and let his saliva start dissolving it.

"Judge Varner recused himself." Esposito caught Beckett's eyes and nodded once. "That's three so far."

Three judges had excused themselves from the case.

"He part of things?" Castle got out, pushing the piece of pastry around with his tongue.

"Could be. Or just that they're friends, they know each other, and so he'd be biased," Espo said.

Beckett shook her head. "Could be he's being pressured."

"For what purpose?" Esposito flipped through the top two pages of the file, handed Beckett and Castle two different photos. "We haven't seen anything like that."

The photos: Markway and his wife, Markway and a man in sunglasses.

"We're doing surveillance, but we're not getting anything. He's out on bail, and he knows we're watching, so he's making a point of sticking close. His wife. A guy we ran down, found it's a paralegal working on his defense team."

"Who gave him bail?" Castle worked to get the words out, caught the faint glimmer of pride on Kate's face as she looked at him.

"Judge Dread," Espo joked. "You know the lady. The one with the white hair and that permanent scowl-?"

Castle hummed in remembrance and nodded.

"Anyway, Dread-"

"Espo."

"Judge _Fredericks_ recused herself after she set bail; she was the second to do so, remember? We've got stuff on her that could be connected. But yeah, Beckett's right. These recuses? - some of this is just these guys covering their asses. They've known Markway for so long; their lives connect in all kinds of ways that could be completely innocent."

"Markway-" But Castle stopped and shook his head. They already knew that the judge had been an acquaintance, that the man had done him favors, that even Castle himself could look guilty in the wrong slant of light.

"What about the trial, Esposito?" Beckett shot Castle another look and he pushed more pastry into his mouth.

"The defense attorney is looking to get a change of venue because he says no one in the city can be impartial."

"He's right." Castle said finally, swallowing the mushy bear claw with a wince. He'd managed not to chew any of it. "Can't find a judge."

"Maybe not," Esposito said. "But good news. Pembroke came through with the warrant. We're going through Markway's phone records and bank statements now."

Beckett sat up in her chair; Castle saw what it cost her, the wrench of pain that shuddered along her body. But she was ignoring it.

"You got something for me to do, Javi? Please say you brought bank statements with you. Something."

Esposito shared a look with Castle; they were both grinning.

"You saying you want the dull, boring paperwork?"

"Yes," she said heatedly.

"Castle can't keep you entertained at night?"

Castle growled, kicked Esposito's chair with his foot. "Perfectly capable of-"

"Boys," Beckett said, pressing her lips together as she stared them each down. One by one. "Esposito. Bank statements?"

"Actually, I got phone records for you. That's what's in the file. Shouldn't have, though. You know they're more likely to throw out evidence-"

"I find anything, I'll show you. You can claim the discovery."

Esposito nodded and Castle realized that what they were doing probably broke chain of evidence procedures or some other rules about who was allowed to do what. Kate herself wasn't unbiased, and having her looking at Markway's call logs could be a detriment to the case the prosecutor was building.

"All right, guys. I'll leave you with that; see what you can find."

Beckett was already pouring through the massive stack. He couldn't fathom trying to get through that, but he'd do it.

"Espo." Castle snagged the detective's sleeve as he moved to stand. "That all his calls?"

Esposito shook his head. "Man that's only the tip of the iceberg. That's just the weeks around Mrs. Beckett's death, no more. I figured-"

"Hardest case to make," Beckett said with a sigh. "Right? This other stuff will be easier to prove - racketeering, extortion, conspiracy, bribery, fraud. But murdering my mother-" She stopped and swallowed, pressed a hand under her sternum, right below the wound.

Castle grunted. "We'll get it."

Esposito gave him a negative with the cut of his eyes. "We may have to settle for getting him on these other charges."

"I might find something in all of this," Kate said, and her eyes were like stone as she stared at the printouts. "I might."

Castle nudged her knee with his, waited until she was looking at him again. "We. We might find something."

She hesitated, and he didn't know what she was thinking. But then the cramped and hunted look drained out of her eyes and she nodded.

They might find something.

* * *

><p>He whined low in his throat like a dog until she relented, changed into a swimsuit, and walked slowly beside him down to the pool. The west bungalows shared a figure-eight-shaped expanse of water nestled into a jungle theme complete with waterfall. The west end of the treatment center was empty but for them - he'd arranged it that way.<p>

Empty but for Tony and Evan and Parker, the three-man security team he'd hired. It was Tony who guarded the walkway down to the pool and it was Evan who was stationed at the back. He had no idea where Parker was, and one day he'd joked that the third man was probably in sniper position, and he'd been met with stone-cold silence.

He was paying very good money for their bodyguards, so he hoped the rotating third man actually was on the roof of a building somewhere or in a tree, strategically set up with an excellent angle.

Fight fire with fire.

"Can't believe you're making me swim," she sighed at him, and her slow and careful walk down the path proved all over again how much she needed it. She was the first one to stick it out when she had physical therapy, to do extra, but for some reason he couldn't understand, she didn't want to do the pool exercises. At least, not when he was around.

"Need it."

"I had PT yesterday morning."

"Do exercises today?"

"Complete sentences, Castle."

He pouted but worked his throat clear, tried to come up with the words. "Did you. Do your exercises. Today?"

Kate brushed the back of his hand with her own; he wasn't sure if it was on purpose, but she was studying him.

"Is it harder to talk after you've eaten?"

He nodded, sighed in relief. She wouldn't make him-

"Then you know how it feels to swim the day after a therapy session," she shot back.

He gave her a soulful look but she shook her head.

"You have to work those muscles same as me, Castle."

True. But he hated having to try and try and mostly fail - all while she watched. He also hated how talking made it harder to eat the next time it came around. It was a never-ending cycle of weariness and exhaustion.

"Look, I'll make you a deal. I'll do the pool exercises, if you talk to me while I do them."

Bum deal. Her exercises would make her tired, and yes, they'd be painful, but she'd still be able to eat lunch in two more hours.

"And-" she started, slid her hand into his. "Maybe other things."

He lifted an eyebrow at her, felt the right side of his face smiling but couldn't be sure about the left. The way her eyes seemed so very amused, he had a feeling his mouth wasn't cooperating. She called it his crooked smile.

"Other?" he said. Trying that much at least. The ache in his jaw was like someone had stomped on his face.

She paused on the path and made him stop with her, the brilliant sunlight highlighting how pale she looked, how the pain made her skin tight. He waited and she lifted her free hand to curl a finger at him; he bent down so she could get to him, eager for that other.

Her lips were gentle, barely there, open against his skin. She used her tongue in the corner of his mouth, the right side, where he could feel it, then traced a line to the left, where the sensation disappeared, reappeared, flickered in and out. She teased there for a moment, drawing out the exquisite unknown, before pressing her mouth fully against him.

When she backed away, released the hold she had on his neck, he came up for air and blinked at her.

"Hot," he croaked out, and it wasn't because his jaw hurt to speak.

She smiled slowly at him and ran her finger down his tshirt. "So come cool off in the water with me. Talk to me; tell me a story."

He nodded, feeling her hand wrap around his.

"And Castle?"

She leaned in and kissed the hollow of his throat where his voice had been trapped for so long now.

"I'll even let you talk dirty to me."

* * *

><p>"Once upon a time, there was a little old lady and a little old man, and they lived together in a little old house. They were so lonely."<p>

He was sitting on the bottom step leading to the shallow end, her hands balanced on his thighs as she kicked slowly in the water, her body horizontal in the water. He had his fingers wrapped around her wrists, his back to the edge of the step, water up to his chest. Her forehead was buried at his neck, her breathing hard; he could feel her arms trembling as she moved her legs.

"So the little old lady decided to make a man out of . . . stinky cheese."

Kate groaned a laugh into his neck.

She was building back up her core muscles. Her body was nearly floating in the water, her legs the only movement, and he could feel the tension through her whole body as she struggled to move through the exercises. He felt her teeth in the tendon at his neck and pressed his cheek to the side of her head, aching for her.

But he kept telling his story. He'd read this book to Alexis when she was little so many times that he had it burned in his brain.

"She gave him a piece of bacon for a mouth and two olives for eyes-"

"Oh, jeez," she panted. "This is so your kind of story."

"I know, right?" He pressed a kiss to her ear. It hurt like hell to talk; his jaw felt like it was going to split apart all over again, but she was in more pain than he was. This was the deal. "And two olives for eyes, and put him in the oven to cook."

"I thought this was the gingerbread man."

"Stinky cheese man. Don't - don't make me explain." His jaw ached fiercely.

"Keep talking. Distract me."

He growled and nipped the edge of her earlobe. She turned her head on a laugh, her nose hitting his cheekbone, her legs slowing down.

"Five more reps," he husked, felt the hinge of his jaw pop strangely.

"Story. Stinky whatever. Go."

Castle worked his mouth wider and tested his tongue against the roof of his mouth. A tingling sensation had started below his left ear. He struggled to remember the rest of the story.

"Castle," she panted.

"When - when she opened-" He stopped and shifted his jaw a little. "Opened the oven to see if he was done, the smell knocked her back."

Kate groaned, half laugh and half pain, and he felt her chin dip lower. Castle raised his hand from her wrist, put his fingers at her neck to keep her head above water.

"'Phew! What is that terrible smell?' she cried."

"And he hopped out of the oven, ran off, right? Can't catch me. All that," she muttered.

He hummed into her ear, nudged her chin with his shoulder so she'd lift her head out of the water. She laid her cheek against his shoulder; he wrapped his hand around her wrist again to keep her stable.

"The old lady and the old man sniffed the air. 'Well, I'm not all that hungry anymore,' said the little old man. 'And I'm not really all that lonely,' said the little old lady. 'At least, not that lonely.'"

He could feel Kate's breath as she huffed again, but he was counting down in his head and squeezed her wrists for her to stop.

"Done. Stop."

She immediately stopped her slow kicks, let her legs sink down to the bottom of the pool. She kept a death grip on his thighs so he slid his arms around her waist and brought her close enough so that he could keep her floating. She left her head on his shoulder as she gulped air.

He pulled a hand out of the water and brushed her hair back from her face. She curled her knees up to her chest and bobbed on the surface, practically in his lap. He couldn't remember the middle of the story.

"Ran. Ran away from cow, goat, other animals, but they didn't chase him. He stank. Came to a river." Castle cleared his throat and winced, tilting his head back as if that could ease the ever-tightening pain in his jaw. "Saw fox beside the river. Fox offered to let Stinky Cheese Man on his back. They started across, but then the sly fox got whiff of this terrible odor-"

"Gotta be kidding me-"

"The fox tried to hold his nose, no good-"

"This is ridiculous."

"The fox started to gag, couldn't keep it down - smelled so bad - and the Stinky Cheese Man was thrown off the fox's back. Into the river. Where he fell apart. Because he's just cheese."

She was silent.

"The end," he added.

"What?" Her head jerked back from his shoulder; her bare toes touched his thigh under the water. "What the hell kind of story is that?"

"Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales," he got out. His throat was raw with the effort of pronouncing every word; the ache in his jaw had upgraded to a flaring agony, like knives or blades of fire.

He could tell she was trying to hold her own, sit up, put her feet down and stand. She squeezed his shoulder, slid her feet to the bottom of the pool, slowly tried to stand.

But she couldn't. She collapsed the moment she let go of him, forcing him to reach out and catch her, curling her into his chest. She made a noise, like grief or pain, but didn't try to move. He stroked her back to keep her there, to say what he just didn't have the energy to say anymore: _Stay, stay right here, I've got you._


	3. Chapter 3

**Go Out Fighting 3: Never**

* * *

><p>For the first time in five weeks, she couldn't do it.<p>

It had taken an hour before she could walk back to the bungalow with him. And even then, she leaned on him too much. When she got to her room, she sat down on the side of the bed and couldn't move for a good long while.

He didn't call out after her; she was glad for that. The solitude of the room, the warm quiet, was exactly what she craved. She'd curl up in bed right now, but her swimsuit and cover-up were soaking wet.

After an indeterminate time - half conscious and half daydreaming - she slid to the floor and crawled to the dresser, pulled out dry clothes. It was a production getting her swimsuit off, an ordeal to even lift her hips, but finally she was dressed and sprawled out in the floor, panting.

And then he knocked on her door.

"It's ok," she said, covering her eyes with her arm and sucking in her breath in shallow little spurts.

"Phone log."

She couldn't do it. She wanted to, so very badly; she needed to solve this case. The passion for justice, finally to have justice; it was so very close-

"Kate?"

She shook her head, still breathing, tried to figure out how to get up. She needed this. But her abdominals wouldn't do it, couldn't. She was tapped out.

"Tired," she said finally, and realized she couldn't even roll to her side.

"Bed," he croaked. His voice sounded terrible. Like it got when he could barely move his jaw. She would open her eyes and look at him, but that required strength she could no longer summon.

She felt his knee on the floor next to her neck, his hand sliding under her shoulders. His other hand cradled her head as he lifted her into a sitting position; she dropped her arm, curled it over her stomach.

He was watching her, but he didn't seem overly worried. At least there was that. The benefit of having Castle around to see every debilitating, humiliating weakness was that these moments where she just _couldn't_ anymore were barely a blip on his radar. He got it. He understood all too well.

"Get to your feet?" he asked, and she knew it cost him to speak.

But he was going to make her stand up, get in bed, and she really couldn't.

How depressing was it that the one time she wanted him to help her out here, he couldn't lift her, couldn't carry her? He needed to start eating, needed to stop giving up when it got too hard. If she had to do pool exercises until her body quit, then he had to eat, damn it.

She slid her feet under her, knees knocking into his body as he hovered over her. She used him for leverage, felt him rise with her. For a long moment, she swayed precariously; his arms came around her.

He started shuffling her back towards the bed while she was still unable to get her balance.

"Castle," she murmured, felt herself sink down to the mattress. She didn't know what she meant to say, only that it was important and she was tired.

"Nap," he said back.

He bent over her and lifted her legs into the bed, hands at the back of her knees and stronger than she'd expected. She rolled slowly onto her side, curled up to relieve the ache. Just past Castle's body, she could see the white index card written in his block print, though shaky: _I love you. _And she believed it.

Her eyes lifted to his but he didn't smile; he must hurt too. His hand rested at her hip, fingers brushing the back pocket of her shorts, intimate and familiar. And she liked it.

Kate closed her eyes, felt his fist dipping the mattress as he balanced over her.

His lips met the corner of her mouth and disappeared before she had the chance to do anything. He started to move away but she reached out and wrapped her fingers around that fist in the mattress, stroked her thumb over his wrist bone.

Her words were soft when she could pull them up out of herself. "You don't have to leave."

She could feel him hovering over her, hesitant or surprised, she didn't know. She didn't open her eyes, kept her hand on his wrist, waiting for him to decide. Her body was already drifting down into sleep.

Go or stay, it made no difference. She'd be unconscious soon.

And then she felt him move, his warmth as he settled in beside her, and even though she'd meant - what? for him to curl up at her back and wrap her in his heat? - he sat against the headboard and let his palm lay heavy on the top of her head.

And that was okay. She liked that too.

* * *

><p>When he was sure she was asleep, he eased off the bed and crept out of her room.<p>

He took half of a muscle relaxant and laid on the couch with the phone logs from Judge Markway. Castle kept a spreadsheet on his laptop of all the phone numbers that appeared often, and then those that didn't seem to appear ever again. A lot of department stores, if the Google reverse lookup was correct, which he attributed to the holiday season; Markway had shopped in the weeks leading up to Johanna's death.

He tried to remember what he himself had been doing in December of '98 and January of '99. Kate was nineteen, so he'd been almost twenty-seven, already with his first divorce under his belt and on his way to marriage number two. Damn, that was depressing.

Alexis had been five, turning six that year. That was the Christmas that Meredith had bought her a bicycle even though Alexis already had one, and it was the first Christmas that his daughter had flown to California for the New Year's holiday. Alone. Of course, by the time Kate's mother had been stabbed, Alexis was back in the city and at school.

Connecting their two timelines made his heart beat too hard; a sense of panic welled in his chest that the muscle relaxant couldn't abate. To think that he'd been moping about his daughter flying alone to her mother's while Kate was losing hers.

He saved his spreadsheet and put the laptop on the coffee table, then got up and headed back for her room, just to check.

She was still asleep, hadn't moved. He wanted to stay in bed, her bed, spend the rest of the afternoon curled up with her. But she needed this - and it was his fault she was stuck down the rabbit hole, and hurting, and he needed to fix it. The printouts were in his hands, cradled against his chest, so he turned back around and settled on the couch again.

Phone records. If he could just find something. One thing. Cell phones were available in '99 but they weren't as plentiful, so any clandestine calls would have to be to pay phones. At least, he was going on that assumption, and he could clear that idea with Kate later. He'd need a listing of all the pay phones no longer active in the city, since they'd removed many over the years.

As it was, the reverse look-up was a slow and painful process. He wished he could pay someone to-

Oh. Well. He could, couldn't he? Pay someone to reverse look-up all these numbers. That would divide the workload quite nicely, and give them the chance to take it easy while they waited.

It wasn't like Beckett had the energy to be investigating her mother's case while also recovering from a gunshot wound. She'd been hit with an armor-piercing round; her sternum had shattered and sent bone fragments through her insides, damaged her heart.

Yeah, he'd pay someone to do some clerical work for them. Black Pawn would find someone; little chance of that person being a hired killer, right?

He'd have to get Ryan or Esposito to contact the publisher for him though. He wasn't supposed to be logging into his email or using his own phone. And now that he was using the internet, he wondered if his laptop's MAC address was tagged, being searched for-

Castle logged off the treatment center's free wireless, then turned off his computer's networking.

Shit. He hadn't thought this out, had he?

Esposito and Ryan hadn't mentioned anything about it. Did they think Markway's organization wasn't so technologically savvy, or was it just that the Judge had a lot going on right now, too much to be thinking about a tenacious detective and her pesky author?

Killing Beckett now wouldn't help his case. The evidence was already out there; grand jury had heard testimony and indicted him. So surely. . .

But Castle just couldn't take that chance. He needed to get a clean laptop to do research, set up an online email account, start paying attention again.

Now that his jaw was healing - slowly - now that he wasn't worried every day that one little wrong movement from Kate was going to reopen her wound, they had to get it shit together.

They'd come after her in the hospital, had tried to finish the job. Just because the evidence was already out there didn't mean that Beckett was safe. Didn't mean that Markway was going to give up. The Judge had been doing this for years now, had all kinds of people on his payroll.

Castle wanted to protect her? Then he better start paying attention.

* * *

><p>When she woke, rich afternoon light was gilding the bedroom. She blinked in it, hot and sweaty in the sunbeams, then slowly curled her knees up and rolled onto them. From there she could sit up with the least amount of pain.<p>

She wobbled at first, still stunned by the light, feeling like a newborn foal, trying not to fall over.

Kate slid one leg off the bed and to the floor, tested her weight, then shifted the other foot down as well. Okay, she was okay. The pool exercises had killed her, but she did actually feel slightly stronger after all that sleep.

She'd missed lunch. She would bet that Castle had 'missed' it too. He'd have a great excuse ready, of course, but it wouldn't be good enough. He needed to eat every meal; he needed to gain some weight, some strength, some endurance.

When she shuffled out of her room, she found him asleep on the couch, highlighter on the floor, printouts across his chest, spread out on the coffee table, his hair messy from air drying. Kate slid closer and lightly put her hand to his bangs, rubbing his forehead with her fingertips and then scratching his scalp as she scraped her nails through his hair.

He stirred at that; his eyes opened. He looked rumpled and sleepy, but completely aware when he stared up at her. His slow smile was his greeting.

She smiled back down at him. "Skipped lunch did you?"

"Hmm," he hummed and scooted his body over on the sofa in invitation. He collected the printouts, dropped them to the floor next to his highlighter to make room for her.

She sat down at his hip, just enough room as he turned onto his right side. Kate brushed her fingers over his ribs, then lay down, curling onto her side as well, pressing her nose to his collarbone and inhaling. She would get up in a minute.

He wrapped an arm loosely around her back, kept his jaw away from her head. No kiss to her temple, no cheek to the top of her head. He must really hurt.

Kate felt his legs tangle with hers, didn't try to move away. He was warm and still sleepy, and she wanted to stay here.

Even after such a long nap, she still felt worn out.

His palm traced up and down her spine, pressed at her shoulder blade to pull her closer. She wriggled in and slid her fingers up his chest to his neck, barely glanced across his jaw. She felt him sigh and his head settle in above hers.

They had work to do; she'd slept for hours. It was time to be responsible again.

He shifted them, his body laying almost over hers, hips pinning her. The feel of his thigh between her legs, his chest expanding with every slow breath-

The thought of studying those printouts made her ache, but she had to do it, had to. She needed to give her mother justice, to put down the burden of her mother's case because it was finally solved, done, laid to rest.

And herself along with it. Right here. With him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Go Out Fighting 3: Never**

* * *

><p>The growling of his stomach woke him. He lifted his head, body shifting as he did, and she moved under him, letting out a soft sigh. Then she laughed, ran her hand up his back.<p>

He was - uh - he was lying on top of her. "Sorry," he got out.

Kate squeezed his shoulder. "It's okay. I fell asleep. But it sounds like you're starving. I am too."

He nodded and shifted back slowly; she turned as if following him, her chin nestling into the crook of his elbow. Castle stroked her face, caught by the look in her eyes, his chest tight.

"Let's go eat," she said softly, and pushed on his shoulder.

He watched her get off the couch, moving slowly and carefully, then followed her up. She tilted her neck side to side and put her hand at her chest, wincing. He knew it got stiff when she slept, but he hoped he hadn't made it worse, falling asleep on top of her.

Kate saw his face and shook her head, reached out and took his hand. "Come on. It's already five."

He grunted and glanced to the clock to confirm that. He hadn't gotten very far on those phone logs. But he'd had that bright idea; he should tell her, run it by her for approval.

She stopped to slide her sandals on. He stuck his feet in flipflops and opened the door for her, his hand at her back to guide her out.

"Gotta talk to me, Castle."

He sighed. Yeah. He had things to say - when didn't he? - but his jaw was still tight, tense with pain. If he didn't move it, the pain abated.

Late afternoon sun painted the trees and flowers in a golden edge as they walked the path to the cafeteria. Kate lifted her hand and waved to Parker; the bodyguard nodded but kept his eyes roving. Castle was seriously happy with the level of professionalism these guys had showed, day in and day out, for the last five weeks.

"Castle. Talk."

"'Kay." He grunted with the crack of his jaw and stretched his mouth in increments to loosen it up. He felt her hand in his again, squeezing, and appreciated the encouragement. "Had an idea."

"Yeah?"

"Printouts. Hire someone to reverse - reverse look-up. All the numbers."

"Oh," she said softly. "I - that could be a good idea."

"Yeah." He felt her unsteady beside him and released her hand to take her by the elbow. He'd learned that trying to put an arm around her waist only made it worse, but this actually gave her some support.

"You know, you never did tell me a dirty story in the pool this morning."

He laughed, cut his eyes to her and saw that smug look on her face. "Huh."

"Kinda disappointed."

"Dirty story just sounds dirty. Like this." He felt that crooked grin lifting his face as she shook her head at him.

"Have to admit you might be right. Pained and halting isn't that sexy, Castle."

He lifted an eyebrow. Sexy? Dirty story wasn't the same as sexy. Even like this, oh, just give him a chance, and he'd show her sexy.

She laughed back at him. "That wasn't a challenge, Castle."

He smirked, shrugged.

"Actually, no. That was a challenge. Anything to make you use that jaw."

Heat flared in his chest and he looked at her, eyes wide and not at all innocent as images came to mind. All the ways he could use his jaw, his mouth on her.

But she didn't look all that shocked, in fact, she might have meant that.

"Don't tease," he said finally.

"Who's teasing?" Her hand drifted up, her fingers catching his tshirt and twisting, hanging on. He wasn't sure if that was to keep her balance as they walked down the path, or if she was actually trying to . . . tease him.

"Now who's talking dirty?" he husked, feeling his jaw muscles clench.

"This isn't dirty, Castle. I have yet to hear anything at all that would qualify. Just a lot of . . . innuendo. Think you can be more explicit?"

"Out here with Parker watching?" He felt the shiver of his jawbone, the rippling of muscle and tendon stretching farther than he meant them to, and realized she was doing this on purpose. She was getting him to talk. She was a master interrogator. "Damn."

Kate laughed and her fingers smoothed his shirt, brushed across his ribs. "Yeah, I got you, didn't I?"

He would stay silent in protest, but her laughter, the light in her eyes, was too good to resist. "Yeah. You did."

* * *

><p>Kate and Castle separated at the cafeteria, each heading for a different line, different foods. She got stir fry again, loaded with vegetables, picked up two milkshakes, put them on her tray because he always forgot. The woman behind the counter added the protein powder and vitamin supplements without Kate even having to ask.<p>

The place was crowded at five; they usually came earlier, around four or so, because healing and physical therapy sessions had turned them both into little old men. At four, they were mostly alone. Now she had to carefully wade through the crowds of people there for drug treatment, alcohol abuse. It was a dance and it already made her ache, her muscles tense just trying to keep her balance.

When she sat at their usual table, Castle was already there, mashed potatoes and pudding this time. No jello. No soup either. She frowned at him.

"No soup?"

He shrugged, but his eyes lit up when she set the milkshake in front of him. The gratitude sparked, and she nodded back, even though she'd promised herself she would make him speak from now on, not let him get away with that wordless communication.

Wordless communication which they did so well. So well that sometimes she felt like she wanted the unspoken more than the words, or maybe just that the silent touches made her more comfortable, the touches and the look in his eyes that told her all she needed to know.

Castle had yet to say it out loud, like he sensed that about her, like he knew.

She wasn't sure if she liked that. Wasn't sure if it was sweet of him to wait until she wasn't wretchedly exhausted every waking hour, or if it was frustrating to not hear Richard Castle, the man who never shut up, be silent on something as big and life-altering as this.

"No soup?" she asked again, unloading her tray.

He sighed. "It was lobster. Bisque." He shuddered and held his nose.

She presed her mouth flat, but she knew the smile was showing. "Smells bad?"

He nodded.

"What about apple sauce?"

He shook his head.

"Did you look for it on the salad bar, because sometimes-"

"Kate," he growled.

She shut up, but she wouldn't apologize. "Drink what you got then." She'd take a couple milkshakes back with them in to-go cups, since his caloric intake was so limited today. Small chunks of bear claw, pudding, and mashed potatoes weren't going to get rid of the skeletal look to his face. She'd never seen his jaw so prominent, his cheekbones standing so stark.

She didn't want him going home to Alexis and Martha like this.

As she ate, reminding herself she had to keep her strength up as well, Kate watched him struggle through his dinner. His mouth opened only a fraction of an inch, his tongue touched the spoon. He did a lot of slurping; she was surprised to realize she barely heard it anymore. She'd gotten so used to this laborious process he undertook just to finish a meal.

"Stop," he said.

She raised an eyebrow but didn't stop. Wouldn't. Because she couldn't tell him how much, how deeply it scared her to know that he was wasting away before her very eyes. Thirty pounds last week at the doctor's was probably forty now, the rate he was going. They had a medical infirmary here at the center, and they could probably give him saline IV if he got dehydrated, but anything more than that-

"Beckett."

She turned her eyes back to her plate and knocked a few pieces of broccoli to one side, smearing them in honey sauce.

Honey. If she could put honey on stuff - even the mashed potatoes - that would be some simple sugars, like the apple sauce. Fairly healthy, in the grand scheme of things, and good calories.

"Castle," she said and reached over the table with her fork, scooped up mashed potatoes, then smeared it around in the honey. "Try this."

When she glanced back up and handed the bite over to him, he was staring at her incredulously.

She glanced at the mashed potatoes now dripping in honey sauce. "What? You like to eat creatively. Try it."

Castle was still staring; he'd be speechless if he didn't already spend most of the day that way.

"Come on," she said, growing irritated with him, pushing the fork in his direction. "Open up."

He sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Are you - feeding me - like a baby?"

Her mouth dropped open; she withdrew her fork, let it clatter back to her plate.

"You are," he hissed.

At the look on his face - something like betrayal, her heart began to pound. "I - it would be - there's . . ." But she didn't know how to defend herself.

Castle leaned forward and for a moment, she thought it was over, he was going to try the honey-drizzled mashed potatoes, but instead he pushed his chair back and stood up.

Then walked away.

And out of the dining room.

* * *

><p>He was furious. That slow-burning anger he got when it came to her - partially ashamed at himself and thoroughly fed up with her at the same time.<p>

So he walked.

She was treating him like an idiot. More than that, like a child. He could feed himself, for goodness sake. He wasn't going to die of starvation. She watched him all the time, and it wasn't even in a sexy _I want you_ way; it was more of that guilt, more of the burden she carried.

He didn't want to be another burden for her, another person to champion, to feel responsible for. He wanted it to go back to how it was - equal, partners, watching each other's backs.

Castle stumbled to a stop on the path when he saw Parker in the distance. If Castle was here, then Parker or somene would have to follow. And who would have Kate?

Shit. This wasn't _having each other's backs_, was it?

He rubbed a hand down his face and turned around, headed for the dining hall. He was so limited by not having the ability to just talk it out, speak his mind, that he was using Beckett's own coping mechanisms. Wow. They were really rubbing off on each other. She was hovering and he was running.

He made it back to the cafeteria, opened the door, yanking it out of the hand of the person coming out - Kate.

His heart eased.

"Sorry," he started, his voice cracked and peeling, but she was already wrapping both arms around his neck and bringing her body flush to his. He embraced her back, trying to be careful of her still-healing wound, and buried his face in her neck.

"Don't do that," she muttered. "Don't do that to me."

"Sorry," he said again, kissed the soft skin of her neck where it met her shoulder.

She clutched him tighter, but he could feel her wince, curl in. He'd stretched her too far; she was on her toes, so he leaned in, hunching over her, and let her put her feet back on the ground.

"I'm sorry, too," she murmured, so softly he barely heard it.

He'd have said something to stop her apologies - he didn't need them, but he found he couldn't get his jaw to work.

"Sorry to make you feel like that, I just - I don't know what to do, Castle. I don't know how to help. I can barely stay upright sometimes and-"

He grunted and pressed his mouth over hers, feeling pain frisson through his jaw but not even caring. Still, she sighed against him, breaking their kiss, and ran a thumb along his lips, back and forth, so strange and erotic because he couldn't feel all of her touch.

Her mouth was gentle and brushed against him once more, then she pulled back, her thumb trailing so softly along his once-broken jaw. He sighed and captured her hand, squeezed.

"No more - feeding me," he said, then paused, tilted his head to think about that. "Or. Wait."

She laughed at that, biting her bottom lip. "Oh no. Too late. Feeding you is off the table."

He groaned and hung his head. Stupid move. "Ohh, what about-"

"Nope." She shook her head, then untangled her fingers from his to run her hand down his chest, snag the waistband of his shorts. "Too bad. I had such-" her voice dropped, "-plans for you."

Oh damn. Oh. _Kate_. And her hand was still there, just at his waist, fingers tucked in, and he seriously couldn't think. All gone. Adios.

She tugged, pulling him in close, and he realized there were two people trying to move past them in the little lobby of the cafeteria, get to the door. He stumbled into her, trying to keep from falling all over her in his clumsy arousal, caught her around her lower back before he could knock her into the wall.

The two residents were out the door, but he still had her. She was flat-footed but leaning back against his arm, her hand in his waistband, fingers curling, eyes dangerously sexy. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen that look leveled on him before.

"How much does your jaw hurt, Castle?" she murmured.

"Probably as much as this," he said roughly and stroked the back of his hand lightly down her sternum, over her stomach.

She sighed, leaned her forehead against his chest. "Yeah. Too bad."

"Soon, though," he said and slid his palm up her spine to the back of her neck, held her close. "Soon."


	5. Chapter 5

**Go Out Fighting 3: Never**

* * *

><p>It was a near thing, but he managed to swallow another pill, and then, of course, he made her do the same. She knew it had to be psychosomatic, but she felt the effects immediately, the letdown of her whole body into heavy bliss.<p>

She was so tired.

Castle kept a hand at her waist and leaned down, touched his nose to the side of her face in greeting and good night both. She brushed her fingers over the right side of his jaw, where she knew he could still feel it, then turned back to her room.

So today would be a waste. They'd both slept from just before lunch until five, and now here they were about to crash again. But he needed to take the muscle relaxtant or else his jaw wouldn't loosen enough to let him eat in the morning, let alone finish dinner. She knew it frustrated him to no end, knew that he seriously hated going to bed hungry, but she didn't know what else they could do about it.

Kate changed into shorts and a tshirt, pulling it on over her head so slowly. She brushed her teeth and remembered she'd left the milkshake out on the counter. She went back for it, put it in the fridge with the hope that he'd be able to drink it later. Maybe even tonight, if that pill worked fast enough, if he woke hungry sometime in the middle of the night.

She stood swaying at the counter, the thick feeling swamping her senses, tried to figure out what to do next. Something about Castle. Oh. No. Bed. Sleep. She needed sleep.

Kate headed back for the bedroom, stumbled at the edge of her doorway, her shoulder glancing off the wood frame. She winced but made it to the bed, leaned over in that awkward maneuver that kept her wound from stretching, and got partway under the covers before she just didn't have the strength to do more.

She laid there. Half in and half out of the covers, cold in the air-conditioning. The light was still on; the lamp cast a circle of quiet around the index card, burning steady and unwavering before her. She reached out and grabbed it, curled her fingers around the soft, smooth edges, brought it to her chest.

She was so tired. She just-

But she got up, sat on the edge of the bed with her eyes closed for a moment to gather the last of her consciousness around her like a blanket.

And then she stood up slowly, her body loose and dangerously liquid, made her way to his bedroom. His door was open as if he'd been waiting on her and she was suddenly so very glad she'd made it.

Castle was flat on his back in the middle of the bed, already asleep, and she longed to follow.

She made her way to his side, crawled up next to him, and curled on one side, her back warm against his ribs, her head pillowed on his outflung arm. He made a noise and she closed her eyes, brought her arms up to keep warm, dug her toes into the sheets so she could slide her legs under.

Castle grunted and curled around her, a sudden move that left her draped in him, his arm thick and strong against her sternum, holding her together.

And then it was easy to fall asleep.

* * *

><p>When he woke, his stomach growling in hunger, it was still mostly dark. The faint tinge of pale-yellow lit the outward edges of the window, but it was nowhere near time to get up.<p>

It was-

Kate was here.

It took him a moment to comprehend the tousle of dark hair spread along his palm, the head resting on his arm, the lithe body against his chest, the legs tangled with his. Kate.

She was warm and long and alive and breathing next to him. He was coming out of the fog of medicine but it was still too early to wake, and so he stayed close, his arm wrapped at her waist, his nose at the back of her neck. She smelled like sleep and chocolate milk; she smelled like skin.

He didn't want to move from here. He wanted her to always be the one he woke to, sleeping next to him. Even weary and a little broken, even struggling, she was beautiful and strong and alluring.

He pressed his mouth so very lightly to the skin at her spine, barely felt it, and then nestled his forehead against her to breathe again. Long breaths, slow breaths, happy.

His knees came up slowly, curled behind her legs, the warmth of her weight on his thighs. He could feel her ribs moving in and out with her breathing, that even, deep rhythm. She'd never fallen asleep with him and stayed. But here she was, and he didn't even remember her coming-

Was she sick? Maybe she hadn't felt good. Maybe a dream or-

He curled his arm up to bring her close and hovered over her. His forearm was braced against her chest with both her hands cradling his, as if to keep him there. He felt something with rough edges against the back of his hand and peered closer, trying not to wake her, slowly turning his palm until he could see what she had.

She was holding his _I love you_ in her hand.

* * *

><p>When she woke, it was like she was being pulled by a string in her gut slowly and inexorably upward. Her eyelids were heavy but she was surfacing in the warm lake of awareness; she felt him behind her, strong, and she could hear him breathing.<p>

She was still so tired. The pain medicine was good, it did the job, she already could sense that her body was more fluid, more easily managed now. It wouldn't last long, and today was a physical therapy session at ten that was sure to ruin her, but at the moment, she felt -

pretty good. Heavy with the temptation to sleep, but though she ached, it was bearable.

She could stay here. Relax in it.

Kate wasn't good at relaxing, but she did slowly roll over within the circle of Castle's arm, bringing them face to face. He was asleep. His mouth was open as he breathed.

His mouth was open.

She lifted her head to look at him, brushed her fingers over his jaw softly, not wanting to wake him and ruin it, not wanting him to know that he apparently had no trouble when he was asleep. It was beautiful, the open jaw and the view of his teeth, his tongue, the dark cavern of his mouth. She couldn't believe she was so ridiculously joyful about seeing him drooling on the pillow, but-

Well. With healing came the chance to-

do more.

Kate leaned in and pressed a kiss to his jaw, so softly, so lightly, trying not to hurt him, not to wake him. She smoothed the tips of her fingers along the scar at the left side of his face, his ear so pink and shiny, reconstructed expertly of course. Only the best. He deserved the best for his cool police scars, as he'd called them.

His hair stood up in spikes and she couldn't resist scratching his scalp, leaning up to kiss his forehead, the warm skin and the heat of sleep under her lips.

And then she wanted - she was warm and her scar didn't pull - she wanted to kiss him on the mouth, slide her tongue inside and touch his. Her heart pounded with it, her palms suddenly damp, her body too warm.

She stared at him, the slack jaw of sleep, wanting so much, and for the first time not sure he could give it to her, not even now.

Kate put her head back down on his arm, her body pulsing with her own heartbeat, and closed her eyes, tried to will it away.

Her neck suddenly itched and she reached back, felt the corner of something hard in Castle's hand where his arm curled up to hold her. This thing was poking her skin, uncomfortable. She twisted a little in his embrace, slipped two fingers into the space between her neck and his hand, pulled out an index card.

_I love you._

Her heart flipped.

She'd brought it with her last night - she didn't remember doing that, not exactly, but she had been clutching it to her chest when she fell asleep lately, and so she must have brought it in.

She pressed the worn, fading letters to her mouth and closed her eyes, then turned her head back to him. She reached out, the card in her palm, and pressed it against the hollow at the base of his throat, felt the heat of his skin even through the paper.

She leaned in, breathing his breath, her head pounding, her heart dizzy, and then touched his bottom lip with her mouth, tentative and yielding. When he didn't stir, didn't startle in pain or jump away, she slid her tongue along the right corner of his mouth and then sealed her lips to his, hoping this time to wake him up.

* * *

><p>He woke with her tongue in his mouth.<p>

Castle's eyes opened, stunned, confused, and then he came to senses and kissed her back.

Hard.

He felt the pop of his jaw as he opened his mouth wider to her, exaltation and arousal both in the noise he made as her tongue devastated him. Her body was moving, seeking him, and he held her tighter, tried to still that dangerous and compelling rhythm.

She wasn't aggressive - she was exploratory. Her mouth investigated his, drew confessions from his body he wasn't sure she was ready to hear. But she didn't stop, didn't move away, kept hearing them, recording them with the play of her tongue against his.

The effort of his hands at her skin, the smooth slope of her back, stood witness to the shudder that passed through her body. He pressed her tighter to him, leaning heavy against her, pushing her back into the bed even as he tried to draw her hips up.

She unfurled under him, lifted her head for more, her breath a moan.

How did this happen? And so fast?

"Kate," he grit out, used his teeth to numb her bottom lip with the force of all the things he'd held back. He groaned when her hand slid under his shirt, slid upwards.

She sucked in a breath that he could taste. "Castle. Your jaw?"

"Ignoring it," he said, sucked on a spot at her neck, used his tongue to bathe it.

"This okay?" She spoke into his temple, her teeth at the ridge of his eyebrow, her fingers brushing over his stomach. He jerked in response.

"Best medicine." He was moving to the collar of her tshirt, trailing his lips, when something cut against his neck. He jerked back in surprise, released her hip to clutch at whatever it was, laughed when he felt the index card.

He quirked his eyebrow at her, pulled it out from between them. She was smirking up at him, so he tapped her forehead with it, his eyes a question.

She shrugged at him, lifted her head to claim his mouth again, her tongue liquid gold, quicksilver, mercurial all. He claimed the kiss aggressively, grunted as his jaw cracked too wide, locked, the hinged bone freezing up, stiff and aching, and she dropped her head back, breathless, a wordless and inarticulate little cry.

Damn it.

But her hands stroked lightly along his jaw even as he winced, stroked over and over. He ducked his head to lie in the crook of her neck as he slowly worked his jaw closed, millimeter by agonizing millimeter. Kate's mouth at his temple burned, soothed, her fingers holding him to her, feather light but tethers to everything there was between them.

"It's okay, it's okay," she murmured. "Soon, Castle."

Something brushed his cheek and he turned his head, saw the card in her fingers, saw its words reflected again in her eyes.

_I love you._


	6. Chapter 6

**Go Out Fighting 3: Never**

* * *

><p>"Kate."<p>

"Yeah, yeah." She groaned and stiffened as the physical therapist slowly let go of her.

"No, no. Ease into it. You know the drill."

She hated him. Hated him. Hated her rebellious and broken body. Hated-

"Use that anger. Do the arm presses."

She was sitting on the gym mat, legs sprawled in front of her, arms behind her as she leaned back on her palms. She slowly let her elbows bend with her weight and closed her eyes.

"Last set, Kate. You can do it."

If he made her cry again, she was gonna lose it. Crying was losing it, technically, but she was going to have to kick some ass-

As soon as she could, in fact, kick ass.

Right now, her core muscles spasmed and shook so badly that she was practically bouncing. Her elbows bent, her torso lowered, and the agony traveled into her shoulder joints.

"Rate the pain for me."

She wanted to say ten. Saying ten meant they'd stop. But if she was honest - and she should be honest because only by being honest about this would she ever get better-

"Seven," she gasped.

"Okay, let's do four more."

Less than the ten he'd told her to do. So seven on the pain scale got her number of reps halved. Good to know. Not that she would ever cheat, but yes, she was beginning to understand her body, hear it, listen to it, and he was right. Four. She'd be sweating and moaning at four, but she could still do it.

And she was. Sweating and moaning at four. Her PT caught her by the shoulders and eased her to lie flat. She fumbled for the towel and dropped it over her face, breathing hard.

"Someone's here to see you."

"Shit."

"Nice, Beckett. Real classy." Castle's voice cut through the empty workout room. She didn't bother to take the towel off her face.

"Why are you here?"

"Ultrasound, remember? Gotta help get you onto the table."

Oh, right. To make matters infinitely worse, Castle got roped into hauling her sweaty, grimy, shaky ass off the floor and up onto the table for the ultrasound therapy.

But it was worth it. Not just because the ultrasound seemed to give her back a range of movement that seemed wholly impossible at this moment, but also because it forced Castle to push his own body. The first two times he helped, he'd been as shaky as she was. And she'd seen him force feed himself after that. So it worked-

"Wait." She snatched the towel off her face and peered up at him. He was grinning. "Your jaw?"

He grinned wider - and he could. He could.

"What? How-?"

"I think something . . . snapped last night?"

When she'd mauled him like a dog in heat. Right. She blushed and dropped the towel back over her face. She could hear the PT laughing, but surely he had no idea. Castle hadn't been talking, had he?

"Anyway. It still aches like nobody's business. But I can move it."

"Don't overdo it," the PT said. "Take a rest with the jaw while Kate gets ultrasound. Then see if it stiffens up on you. If it does, do the exercises your guy gave you."

"I did them already."

"If it stiffens up during the break, that's all. That way when you get to lunch - late lunch, sorry Kate - then you'll actually be able to eat something."

Kate wiped the towel down her face and looked up at the two men standing over her. "Let's go. I'm already starving."

Her PT grinned down at her. "That's good. Rebuild those muscles. Remember to get beans, peanut butter, chicken - anything with protein."

"Mm, peanut butter beans. I know that's exactly what you want, Kate." Castle smirked at her as he leaned down, got into the right stance, his large palm cradling the back of her thigh.

The physical therapist eased her to a sitting position, put his had under her other leg, and then Castle tucked his shoulder into her armpit. Together they lifted her, still seated, and carried her to the private room where all the equipment was set up.

Castle's doing - the ultrasound machine, the physical therapy sessions, everything. He was paying for it, wouldn't even give her an idea, a hint, of what it was costing. He'd cryptically said Nikki Heat was paying for it anyway.

They deposited her on the table; Castle brushed his hand down her back and stepped away. She watched him find his seat in the corner, pull his laptop from under the chair. He must've stowed it away here-?

No. That wasn't his laptop. A new one then. A clean laptop. Oh shit. She hadn't even thought of that-

The PT gently eased her down to the padded table, lifted her shirt. The gel was pleasant, straight from the warmer, so she never had that stinging recoil from the cold. Not like the first time. Castle again - who even knew that warmers existed for the ultrasound gel?

She turned her head and watched him on the laptop as her physical therapist applied the first round of sound waves into her tightly clenched, still spasming abdominal muscles. She breathed out with it, felt him move the sound head in circular patterns, felt the slow build of heat.

She closed her eyes and sighed.

At the beginning, he'd used the ultrasound before her exercises. And then a few weeks ago, he'd switched it up and started giving her the ultrasound treatment at the end. It made a huge, marked different. Her pain management was easier, her muscles eased, her recovery from therapy sessions was infinitely shorter.

He said that was his normal way of dealing with gunshot wounds that had damaged a lot of muscle. She wanted to ask Castle how in the world he'd found this guy, a physical therapist who'd dealt with a lot of gunshot wounds, but she already knew the answer.

He knew a guy.

She grinned to herself, felt the pleasure of simple relaxation easing down her body, and opened her eyes.

Castle was watching her. His hands hovered over the keyboard, his eyes wide and intense and so very blue, and her smile only widened under the strength, the adoration of his gaze.

And then she realized the picture she made, the technician, the ultrasound, the head of the wand pressing into her belly.

Oh God.

* * *

><p>It had never hit him like that before. It'd been his first snarky question, yes, when he learned from the physical therapist that she'd be doing ultrasound sessions. <em>Like for pregnant women?<em>

Even then, it hadn't hit him. Because in the beginning, he was so distraught over Kate's inability to even get up on a table without serious help that he didn't see it. And then when she'd progressed enough to start receiving treatments after her workouts, half the time she was crying, not even able to raise her arm up to her face to hide her tears of frustration and exhaustion.

This was the first time he'd seen her smile, seen her look over at him with joy.

And it just.

It hit him.

He couldn't think about it. This had to happen first - this whole conspiracy had to be brought down, justice for her mother, before anything else.

But he kept his hand at her elbow as they walked to the cafeteria for lunch, the image crowding his head. The look on her face, her smile at him-

"Ryan!" Kate called.

Castle looked up. The detective turned and gave a short wave, jogging back towards them. "Just coming to look for you."

"But Esposito was here just yesterday," Kate said, tugging her elbow out of his grasp.

He dropped his hand and was impressed at how she kept it together. She'd let herself struggle in front of Javier, but not Ryan?

She led the way down the path towards the cafeteria, even as Ryan glanced nervously to Castle. Rick just shook his head and gestured for him to go with her.

The three took their time, slower than they'd have done if Kate let him just help, and then Castle at least got to open the door for them.

"Tell us," Kate said. "Why are you here so soon?"

"Something must've happened in the case," Castle put forward, grabbing a tray for Kate and one for himself. He ignored her open palm and headed for the stir fry. He could do this at least. There was no way she could balance a tray right after a therapy session.

"Something happened in the case," Ryan said quietly. "I'll wait to fill you in until we get seated. Somewhere secluded?"

Castle nodded and thrust a tray in Ryan's hands instead. "Go get us all some milkshakes."

Ryan nodded, swiveled his head around to look for the appropriate line, then took off.

Kate was glaring at him, but he didn't care.

* * *

><p>Ryan ate french fries slathered in ketchup as he talked. Castle had upgraded to mashed potatoes in which he mixed in some peas and mushy carrots. And honey. Yes.<p>

Kate was giving him these pleased, happy little looks, despite her distraction. And all it took was honey.

Ryan swallowed. "Okay, so. Don't know how, but Montgomery's documents have leaked to the press."

Castle paused, fork halfway to his open mouth. "What?"

"We're looking for the source, but the new Captain thinks it was probably someone on the grand jury."

"A judge. Too big a news story," Kate muttered, stabbing at her stir fry.

"Yeah, thing is. Someone - either the source or the journalist - has connected it back to your mom's case."

Castle's eyes cut to hers, watched the grief pour down her face.

"What?" She fisted her hand around her fork, blinking at Ryan.

"How?" Castle asked.

"Weirdly enough, real estate records and Dick Coonan's brother."

"What?" Kate repeated. Her lips were bloodless.

Jack Coonan, older brother to Dick Coonan the hired hitman. The guy Kate had shot in the precinct to save Castle's life.

"You're telling me that we overlooked something about Jack Coonan that leads directly to Judge Markway?" Castle leaned forward, dropping his fork back to his plate.

"No. I'm telling you that Johnny Vong-"

Here Ryan paused and met Castle's eyes. _I own a boat_.

"Johnny Vong," Kate said testily.

Okay, definitely not the time to parrot the whole real-estate broker's DVD shtick.

"Johnny Vong bought real estate from Judge Markway and sold it to Dick Coonan."

"Real estate," Kate echoed.

Castle glanced at her again, saw the pinched edge to her face that meant her bullet wound was tightening, her muscles squeezing. They shouldn't be though. She'd just had her ultrasound therapy and she should be okay for another couple hours.

Meant the shock of Ryan's information was seriously stressing her out. He rubbed at his eyes and looked back to Ryan. "You said real estate and Jack Coonan."

"Jack Coonan bought his brother the knife."

"_The_ knife?" Castle hissed. "I thought it was his Special Forces knife. I thought-"

"We assumed it was because the wound patterns were the same. Turns out Dick Coonan lost his Special Forces knife in a hand-to-hand combat situation in Iraq, first Gulf War."

"How'd we not know that? How did that not come up?"

"A lot of his records were sealed, Beckett. We used what we had, and then he was going on about Rathborne and our focus went there. Then he died. He just-"

"But I-" Kate shook her head. "I poured over every inch of Coonan's life after that. After I killed him."

Castle stared at her. "You did what?"

Her head jerked up to meet his eyes, her mouth opening but not say anything.

She'd gone down that rabbit hole and she hadn't told him. She hadn't breathed a word of it to him.

Oh. That look. Because she hadn't wanted to put the burden of guilt on him, for being the reason she'd had to kill Coonan. To save his life, and end her last, best chance at answers.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but she shook her head and held up her hand. "Tell me how Jack Coonan's knife has anything-"

"During the first Gulf War, the Judge was in Iraq as an aide to a Congressman - raise troop moral, some kind of visit. As part of the official welcoming ceremonies, the entourage was given a variety of take-home gifts. One of those gifts was a particular brand of knife, a Special Forces blade."

Ryan was getting a lot better at the story-telling, Castle noted, but he seriously had to pick up the pace.

"There's video of Markway accepting the knife in the Congressman's name during the ceremony. And Jack Coonan? He bought that same blade from Markway, gave it to his brother as a Christmas present. A Westie went on record saying how much Jack bragged about it. The Westie said the reason he remembers this at all is because Jack was approached by Markway himself. Markway set up the buy."

Something cold and final and delicious slithered down into Castle's guts.

Kate was as cold and silent as stone.

Castle cleared his throat, felt his jaw loosen. "Markway put the killing weapon in Coonan's hands."

Evidence.

Markway was nailed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Go Out Fighting 3: Never**

* * *

><p>She swayed on her feet, felt his arms go around her, steady, and she breathed in.<p>

Markway. Her mother. Coonan.

Was this what it felt like to be done?

Empty. Drifting.

After lunch, they'd walked to the bungalow alone, together, while Ryan had hurried back to the city, to the case, to the rapidly mounting evidence. They'd _slowly_ walked, Castle going at her pace. And now.

She had nothing left.

"I need to exercise my jaw," he murmured.

She made some non-committal noise and turned her cheek to rest against his shoulder. "You should."

His fingers stroked through her hair, palm cupping her ear. "I need your help for that, Beckett."

Her brow furrowed; she lifted her head to look at him. "What - why?"

He was waggling his eyebrows at her. That tight little grin.

"You wanna exercise with my face?" she asked, startled into awareness.

He chuckled. "I don't need your whole face. Your mouth will work nicely." And before she could adjust, he was dipping his head to meet her lips. But it was a gentle thing that made her sigh.

She opened to him, his warm and caring kiss. She snaked her arm up his chest, her fingers brushing his cheek, down his face. She could feel his jaw working, not quite effortless but definitely without the usual grimace.

He broke away, nudging his nose against hers, kissing the edge of her mouth, the slant of her cheekbone. She breathed against him, a little sigh that released so much.

"Castle."

"Better, huh?" He grinned at her as he shifted back, stroking a hand up her back to curl at her neck.

She gave him a smile back. "True. Much."

"But?" he asked, stroking his thumb along her collarbone.

She shivered. "But nothing." Her eyes closed, almost against her will, and then she knew what, knew the hesitation at the end of her own words. How had he known before her? "But what happens now?"

"I can think of a few things. Though you'd probably enjoy it more once you're healed up. So would I, come to think of it."

Kate twisted her lips to keep from laughing, but couldn't hold it back. He relaxed the moment she did, his own grin matching hers. She shook her head at him, traced her fingers over the pocket on his tshirt.

"So let's focus on that, Kate."

She lifted her eyes to him. "What?"

"They have evidence - they have enough to make a case. But you and I? We need to make sure we make it to that trial, that both of us get that far."

Even though he was talking again, even though his jaw was working better and his kiss had some endurance to it - delicious endurance - she could see on his face that he was probably as exhausted as she was. Just eating lunch wore him out.

"I want to go through those phone records," she said quietly.

His hands around her arms tightened, then let go. But he was nodding. "You know we don't have to. Ryan seemed convinced there was an overwhelming amount of evidence now."

"It's just - it's been taken completely out of my hands."

"He'll still have to face a judge and jury. He'll still have to pay for what he did. To your mother, to you, to everyone's lives he's ever destroyed."

"I wanted-" She shook her head and stepped away from him, rubbed a hand down her face as she headed for the couch. She could hear him following behind her. "I wanted to be the one. I need to be the one, Castle." _For her._

She sank down, wincing as her muscles twinged, the cramp in her obliques, the tug of her abs, the pull at her chest. Castle dropped down next to her, reached over and slipped his hand under her thigh, pulled her leg up, then the other one after it.

Kate raised her eyebrow at him, but he smoothed his hands down her shins, leaned over and kissed her knee.

Bewildered, she stared at him. His thumbs rubbed over her kneecap, but she had no idea what he meant, what his intention was, why he was doing this.

His hand slid down to her ankle, pulled off her sandals, one by one. His thumb and knuckles dug into her arch, then the other, she winced and curled her toes.

"Scoot back, Kate." He was rubbing her feet, his fingers possessive, certain. It had nothing to do with their conversation. It was like he'd abandoned it entirely.

But she moved slowly, easing to the other end of the couch, every movement a flare of newly awakened pain. Damn. The ultrasound therapy didn't usually wear off so quickly.

"See?" he said softly, and though the word sounded an awful lot like her mother's laughing _I told you so,_ his voice was strained.

She hid her eyes behind her hand, took a long breath in. "Yeah." She was still weak; it still hurt to move.

"If you want, we'll look at phone records until neither of us can sit up straight. We'll keep at it. Just in case they need more. But Kate-"

"I get it." She bit her lip and pressed her fingers into her eye, dropped her hand finally. "I know."

"You'll rest?"

"I - I'll do my best."

"All I ask," he murmured, digging his fingers into her calves now, making her eyes close. "The phone records are on the coffee table. Did you want . . .?"

She opened her eyes, turned her head to look at the stacks all over the table. A great hopelessness rose up in her, not because she thought she couldn't do it, but because it was no longer necessary. It was gone, all the urgency was missing but the drive and the need were still hungry in her, and now directionless, restless. But she could barely walk from the cafeteria to their little place without needing a nap. She couldn't even begin to think about picking up those phone records.

"No," she said finally. Her next breath was a shudder of a sigh, too near crying for her own liking. "No. Not - not right now. I can't - I'm so tired."

His hands stilled on her feet; his warmth suddenly disappeared. She opened her eyes and saw him getting to down, kneeling in the floor beside her, a hand lifted, and then he was stroking the side of her face, so gentle, his eyes just too tender, too-

loving.

She bit the inside of her cheek and tried to ignore the knowledge in his eyes. He knew. He understood her.

"I know you're tired," he said, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth, down her chin. Her frown lines.

She lifted her hand, bumped it against his jaw lightly, raised a finger to stroke the scar. He turned his mouth to press his lips against her fingertip. The way his mouth worked, she wondered if parts were still numb.

"I know you're tired, Kate. I know. And now it's time to rest. Finally. Let's just do that for now."

She nodded at him. "For now," she said, her voice dry and cracking, but she could agree to that, to a temporary cessation.

His hand came back to her face, fingers stroking to her ear and sliding through her hair. He lifted her head, pressed his lips to hers.

She sighed into it, slid her arm around his neck and came with him as he leaned back. He chuckled, catching her against his chest, and then he got up, maneuvered them back onto the couch.

Kate laid against him, curled at his side as he settled. His fingers stroked through her hair, over and over, and when, maybe once, it would've driven her crazy, from him, such a needy thing, it was instead soothing.

She could do this for awhile. She really could.

Actually, she could do this forever.

* * *

><p>Castle was surprised when she fell asleep against him, but he shouldn't have been. Her physical therapy sessions were always intense, and he had pushed her a lot in the pool the day before, so it might've been worse this morning.<p>

He wished he could pick her up, lay her in bed to let her have a long nap, but for right now, he'd just watch her sleep, wishing he could do more.

The phone records taunted him from the coffee table. But he knew, without a doubt, that his going through them wouldn't do it, wouldn't help her. Because she needed to be the one to bring Markway down - she needed to be the one. It had to be her. And he could help, sure; she wanted him there when it happened, her partner, but she had to make the discovery.

But. Her mother's case was over.

For all intents and purposes, it was done.

They'd reached the end.

She was right. What happened now?

After this. After he made her rest and heal and come back stronger, after he himself felt like he could chew long enough to eat a real meal, what happened then?

She'd go back to the 12th - she'd be the homicide detective she always was: kind, compassionate, fierce, loyal. Maybe without that haunted look in her eyes. Maybe fewer sharp edges, maybe some more downtime, maybe a little ease in her laughter.

He'd be there, of course; he would always be there. But now that there wasn't this connecting them, now that it was over-

he hated that he was thinking it, but he still wondered - Where did he fit in?

Castle sighed, felt the truth of it seep into him.

"Castle?"

He jerked, let out a startled laugh. "I thought you were asleep," he murmured, looking down at her, brushing his fingers through her hair, pulling it away from her eyes.

"No, just - resting."

He pressed his cheek to the top of her head, heard the word _resting_ for what it was from her, a symbol, a sign.

"Why are you sighing like that?" she asked, and her fingers smoothed the slope of his collarbone. Then she pushed against him, sitting up again.

He let her go, even helped her ease up, get her balance. He was angled towards her on the couch and she'd pulled her feet up, sat cross-legged as she regarded him.

"Castle."

He shook his head. "Just - resting too."

She raised an eyebrow, reached out and laid her hand on his knee. "More than that. Sighing like a pouting kid."

He felt his lips twitch and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. "Okay, so I was thinking some too."

"'Bout what?"

"The end. How this ends. What happens at the end."

She tilted her head at him, as if she didn't understand. Surely she did.

"The end is writing itself, with or without my help," he said, trying to explain. "I have the way I want it to end, and then there's reality. And sometimes with you, those two things don't align."

He smiled at her, hoping she would too, but she didn't.

"You and I-" She paused, regarded him for a moment. "You and I aren't often-"

He waited but she dropped her eyes to their hands, spreading her fingers.

"Hold on a minute," she murmured, and then slowly detached from him, getting to her feet. He moved to stand, but she shook her head, pressed two fingers into the hollow at his throat to keep him there. "Stay. I'll be right back."

At a loss, he watched her make her way, that tight pinch to her face overlaid with determination. She disappeared into her bedroom, came out in a moment with a frown, heading into his room next, apparently looking for something.

He sat up, watching her trek, and then she came out with a little pleased smile on her face, something behind her back. Castle kept his mouth shut because he could see she had a plan in mind, something she wanted to do.

She stood at the end of the couch for a moment, watching him, letting it build, and then she came closer and sank down next to him, that slow and torturous movement that had him itching to help.

Kate drew her knees up again, crossed her legs, back where she'd been only minutes ago. Only this time, if it was possible, a little closer.

"Castle."

He felt his lips smirk, couldn't help the little grin on his face. "Ye-es?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, but she was smiling too. "You and I - you and I aren't always on the same page, are we?"

He sucked in a breath, squeezed his hand in a fist on his knee, wondered where she was going with this.

"We miss - miss every summer. I used to wonder . . ." She glanced down, her lip between her teeth. "I used to wonder if we could ever get over that nine month mark. I thought, the moment we did, the year that a summer came around that didn't break us apart-"

"Kate," he murmured, his chest tight as he reached out for her. Her hands were carefully at her side, hidden, so he rested his palm at her knee, tried to wait her out.

"Here's our summer, Castle." She sighed and tilted her head, gave him a wry smile. "It took both of us getting shot to do it, but here it is. We're finally on the same page." She reached out and flipped his hand over, pressed something into his palm.

Castle glanced down.

"Or, well, the same index card," she said softly, a laugh in her voice.

_I love you._

He curled his fingers around it, around her hand as well, lifted his eyes to hers. His questions about what happened next - they seemed to become nonexistent at the look on her face.

"Castle," she said. "Whatever happens after this, after the end, we don't. We don't end."

He slid his thumb over her wrist, the card between their palms. His heart was pounding.

"I'm in love with you." And then softer, her eyes warm. "I love you. It won't end."

* * *

><p><strong>the end<strong>


End file.
